All That Jazz
by Missy Tea
Summary: 1920s AU, where Haymtich and Effie discover the darker side to the world of Jazz and liquor.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome Welcome!**

 **Please be aware that I own none of the characters mentioned in this story.**

 **Warnings: Physical Abuse, Substance Abuse and Language.**

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The air was frigid, cold enough to send shivers down his back. Flurries of snow swirled around him, and a sneaky breeze played on the back of his neck. He pulled his collar further up, before sticking his hands deeper into his pockets where he could feel his flask gently bumping against his fingertips. The pavement was icy in parts, the street cleaners unable to keep up with the storm. Tomorrow they would be up at dawn again, clearing paths for the business men to get to work, while their wives spent another day shopping and gossiping.

Such empty lives they led in comparison to how he had grown up. Shopping was never a pleasure for his mother, but rather a never-ending worry about how they could afford a new pair of shoes for him, as well as keep food on the table for the rest of the month.

He glanced behind him as he walked. The shows of the evening were starting to end, taxis were lined up waiting to take the hordes of people spilling from the theatres to the nearest bar or club. Men dressed in suits and lavish smoking jackets, woman dressed to the nines in cocktail dresses and fur coats. The smell of cigar smoke filled the air alone with the various perfumes, and the foul undercurrent that could only be described as the city. Laugher and chatter filled the air as cars whizzed by, and drunk men called out. Occasionally a door would open, and a blast of jazz, carried by a rush of warm air would drown out the uglier sounds of the night.

He knew the alcohol would be flowing, men and woman eager to buy for all that surrounded them, but Haymitch forced himself to keep walking, until he reached a quieter part of town. He reached the turning he was looking for and glanced behind him. No one was looking his way, and if they were it wasn't anyone who would know who he was. His critical gaze swept the street again, and then he ducked into the small alleyway. It was dark here, the light from the street enough that he could see his way, but shadowy enough that no one would know who he was, if they happened to stumble down here.

Here he waited, leaning against the damp brick wall. He pulled out his flask, and carefully unscrewed the lid. He took a swig, feeling the fire of the alcohol as it burnt its way down his throat. It warmed him slightly, and he before he could think better of it he took another swig.

It wasn't long until he heard her. No matter how much noise there was surrounding him, he could always hear her. The familiar tapping of her heels along the pavement, the swish of her coat as it swirled around her ankles, the slight pause before her figure appeared.

He knew her well, so well it made him sick to think about it. He knew the sound of her feet, the reasons behind her pause. He knew the shape of her curves beneath the coat she wore, its fur collar highlighting her slender neck. He knew the smell of her perfume as she neared him. He waited, not moving from his position on the wall until she was close enough to hear him.

"Princess" he greeted gruffly.

"Haymitch" she replied, the lilt of her accent reminding him that she was not the girl he once knew. His eyes swept over her, but in the dim light he could only make out her outline.

"Still wearing those ridiculous heels, I see." He commented, a sarcastic smirk pulling at his lips.

"Still haven't learnt to use a razor I see" she replied, unfazed by his taunt. She daintily stepped over a pile of rubbish that lay in her path and leaned against the wall next to him.

It always surprised him that despite her fancy accent, elegant clothes, and prim attitude that she never let him get the better of her. No matter what he said, she always had retort waiting that would put him firmly back in his place.

"I thought you didn't want to see me again." he commented, turning to face her. A beam of light caught her face, and he saw her startling blue eyes glare at his flask. With a huff, she then rolled her eyes, and fished a cigarette and lighter out of her purse. Haymitch resisted the urge to chuckle. He had his addictions, but so did she.

She lit the cigarette and for a moment the flame lit up the entirety of her face, throwing into contrast what he couldn't see in the dim light of before. Now he understood why she had refused to meet him in a crowded bar, instead of this forgotten alley. He raised his hand and trailed his fingers gently down the bruise on the side of her cheek. She flinched but didn't step back.

"Did he do that to you?" Haymitch asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"It doesn't matter" she replied, taking another pull from her cigarette. She looked up at him, her blue eyes catching the small amount of light. "I need a favour."

Of course, she did. There was no other reason that she would have contacted him. It wasn't like before, when they would get together for the sake of each other's company. She had become one of them, the people who only remembered people like him existed when they needed something from them. Haymitch turned away from her, scratching his head as he did so.

"I'm running out of favours to give Princess." He said, still facing away from her.

"I'll do anything" She replied immediately

"I thought that might be your answer." Haymitch answered "that's how you people work. Tell me where the bruise comes from Effie."

"You know I can't do that." She answered softly, ignoring the bite in his words

"Why not?"

"Damnit Haymitch, you know why not" she said, her foot stamping on the ground. It was rare that Effie showed her temper, she was known as the sweet little thing who couldn't say boo to a goose, but somehow Haymitch always brought the worst out of her. "It's all fine for you to say leave him Effie. Why do you stay with him Effie? You're a stupid little girl Effie. But you know as well as I do that I'd never be able to escape him. Seneca has friends in high places. Dangerous friends. This bruise is minor compared to the damage they could inflict if they really wanted to."

"He's one man Effie. He can't control everything"

"He's not just one man." She said, "You don't know half of it." He glanced over at her. Her posture was tense, and she kept glancing over her shoulder.

"So why did you come here then?" he asked, relenting.

"I told you, I need a favour." She leaned against the wall again. "The paper isn't doing well. We're about to go under, and if we do we lose everything."

"And exactly why is this my problem sweetheart?" he asked sarcastically. "Do you want me to fall down the steps of parliament, so you can write about that? Sorry sweetheart, been there done that got the grazed shins."

"Because you know everything that happens in this city, before it even happens. You know who the people are to watch. You should have been the one running the newspaper Haymitch." She exclaimed, her hand coming up to grip his arm. He eyed her long red finger nails, remembering what they used to look like, before he shook her off.

"Can't his friends in high places give you something to sell?" He asked, "why would I, a boy from the slums, have anything as scandalous as they have?"

Effie laughed in response. A bitter laugh, one with no humour, no joy, just contempt and sarcasm. It didn't seem right coming from her. He knew her real laugh, the deep belly laugh that seemed to burst from her petite body with no warning. He knew her fake laugh, the one she used around her husband and co-workers. The light twinkle that was no more real than that of a puppet. But this one, the hard, gruff laugh was foreign to her, and it made him feel uncomfortable.

"Oh Haymitch" she said in a condescending tone "when will you realize that all this is to keep those friends out of the papers? Why do you think they befriended him in the first place? He doesn't have the money that they do, the titles. Seneca came from nothing. I came from nothing, and we can just as quickly go back there."

"You could never go back to what you came from." He said, taking a final swig from his flask, and screwing the cap on. "You're too well known. They would never let Effie Trinket, darling of the new world, go back to scrubbing clothes until her hands were raw."

"Don't be naïve." She snapped "you know this city better than anyone I know, I would be forgotten in less than six months. Please Haymitch, I am asking for your help." She looked up at him, her coat wrapped tightly around her, her eyes looking beseechingly up at him. She wasn't just asking, he realized, she was begging.

"Tell me Effie, does Seneca know you're here?" He asked, battling to keep his temper in check "Does he know that you're asking me, the man you promised him you'd never see again, to save his precious paper because his so-called friends won't do it? Is that why he hit you? To remind the two of us that he owns you?"

"He gets angry Haymitch." She sighed "He's under a lot of stress at the moment, it'll get better when we're not facing ruin."

"According to me, Princess, you already are in ruins. The Effie that I used to know would never put up with this."

"You don't understand- "

"Don't I?" Haymitch sneered, grabbing her arm and twisting her towards the light so he could see the bruise more clearly. "I bet he gets angry over the stupidest of things, things that are not your fault or are easy to fix. I bet he goes quiet, and I bet you know what's coming. Knowing you, you try and fight back, and when its all over you take the blame. I bet that he buys you something pretty afterwards, and swears it'll never happen again. But it does happen again doesn't it? Only this time it was worse than usual, because usually he's careful not to mess up your face."

Effie stiffened, and refused to meet his gaze, biting her lip to keep her mask in place. Haymitch knew he was right, he had seen it too many times. Except where he grew up, people weren't careful with the face. He let go of her and turned away.

"I'm sorry I came." She said eventually "I thought you were able to help me, but I see now that I was wrong. Goodbye Haymitch."

Haymitch turned back towards her, as she started to walk away.

"Princess wait." He said, all the fight having gone out of his voice. She paused and glanced back, trying her best to hide the hope that was threatening to take over her expression.

"I don't have anything for you now." He said gruffly "but give me a few days alright?"

A spark came into her eyes, that that he hadn't seen for a very long time, and she gave him a soft smile.

"Thank you Haymitch" she said, and then she was gone, leaving him in a freezing cold alley, wondering what the hell he had just signed up for.

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 **Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

Effie Trinket hurried up the stairs to her apartment, fumbling for her keys as she walked. The storm had gotten worse after her meeting with Haymitch, the snow falling harder and faster, soaking her to the skin. The cold wind seemed to tear at her clothes and skin, until she was sure her lips were blue. It was a relief to be home, if only for the opportunity to get out of the cold. She opened the heavy door and slid inside, the warmth of the house hitting her skin like someone had opened an oven door. She took a deep breath, savouring the heat, before slipping off her coat and hanging it up in the cupboard to her left. Her shoes sank slightly into the plush carpet, muffling her steps as she headed towards the stairs.

She really wanted to slip her heels off, change into her robe and spend the rest of the evening curled up in bed, eating things that she would regret in the morning. Meeting with Haymitch always seemed to do that to her, made her want to forgo the night life, the parties and the booze, and indulge in the creature comforts like warm food and a comfortable bed, that she hadn't grown up with. She hated him for reminding her of her past, and how hard she had fought to get into this world. A world she still didn't feel like she belonged in. She had barely taken two steps up the staircase when the sound of laughter reached her ears. It was not the joyless laughter that her husband sometimes produced, but rather a hearty laugh of more than one person. Effie frowned- her husband was often inviting guests around without telling her first, and despite how tired she was Effie knew she was going to spend the rest of the evening playing the perfect hostess.

With a sigh, she slowly continued to make her way up the stairs, desperate to at least change into something dry.

"Darling!" A voice called, as she neared the top. Effie turned to find her husband, Seneca Crane standing at the bottom, holding a champagne flute. He looked happy for once, mellow. "Aren't you going to come and say hello?" he asked, "Rather rude of you to disappear without greeting our guests."

Effie smiled. It was her signature smile, one she had learnt soon after she had married Seneca. It was a combination of an adoring and indulgent smile, and nearer the beginning it had calmed Seneca was little else could.

"I'll be there in a moment, my love." She replied in a sweet voice, her hand coming to rest on the bannister "I just wanted to change and refresh my make-up before I greet our guests. I got caught in the storm on my way home, and I'm soaked to the skin. I wouldn't want to embarrass you." She said, gesturing vaguely to her face. Seneca's eyes narrowed, and she knew she'd pay for that remark later. It was rare that she ever brought up the marks that he left on her, but tonight she was feeling brave. This was another reaction to meeting Haymitch. He reminded her that she was brave, that she had fought and won, and why would she put up with the abuse of the life she had chosen. She didn't know how he did it, it wasn't like she ever told him the truth of what was happening her life. Tonight, though, this was not a good combination, as Seneca would most likely end the evening a bit drunk and feeling inferior to his high-powered friends.

Still, there was nothing he could do now, so she widened her smile and hurried up to her bedroom. She sat on the bed for a few moments, listening to the general hum of voices from downstairs. She knew who all would be there: the men that controlled the city and their wives. All of those who all looked down on her because her father nor her husband had a title in their family trees. Effie hated them. She looked longingly at her bed. It had been a very long day. She had spent the day working at the office for the paper, before making sure she was seen at one of the new clubs that had just opened. From there, she had met Haymitch, before heading home. She had barely eaten anything all day.

With a small groan she made herself get up from the bed, and head to the closet. She examined her dresses with a critical eye before selecting a deep red dress that was covered in sequins, which shimmered as she walked. It was too loud for her tastes, but she knew it would fit in with the woman below perfectly.

She stripped off her wet clothes and hung them up to dry. She selected a black pair of shoes to go with the dress and padded back to her bed to get dressed. Years of performing had taught her to dress quickly, and do her make-up even faster, and within minutes she was ready to join the party below. She had chosen a dark red lipstick that matched the dress and drew attention away from the rest of her face, before carefully powdering the bruise, until she looked flawless.

"What a lovely surprise to find you all here this evening" Effie announced as she walked into the drawing room, an alluring smile tugging on her lips, her hands spread wide. It was strange how in a manner of minutes she had gone from a cold and tired woman, who wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget about everything to the perfect hostess, prepared to dance the night away with her guests "and there was me expecting a very dull evening."

"Surely not with this handsome fellow to keep you company" a dark-haired woman said, from where she was draped over Seneca. They were seated in a large arm chair, and the woman seemed to be in the process of sharing her drink with Seneca.

"Well, perhaps 'dull' was the wrong choice of wording there, Charity." Effie admitted with a laugh "but as they say, the more the merrier."

"Would you like a drink Effie?" a velvet voice asked.

"I would love one, thank you." Effie stated, turning to find the owner of the voice, and found Cinna standing next to the bar, holding a bottle of wine. A genuine smile suddenly graced her lips. Cinna was a fashion designer, who's rather risqué designs had recently gained him a lot of attention. It had gained him an invitation to any party he wanted, even though he made no secret of his difficult past.

Like Effie herself, Cinna had grown up in the slums, but being a little boy who loved clothes but didn't know who his father was hadn't been easy. Yet Cinna didn't let it define him, but rather embraced it, which was one of the many things that Effie loved about him.

She knew that he didn't fit in with the current group of people, any more than she herself did, but because of his current popularity she knew that they simply couldn't not invite him.

He handed her a glass of wine, and a plate filled with pastries before turning away to pour himself a glass.

Effie was about to find herself a seat, when a cloying scent assaulted her senses. It was a mixture of old cigar smoke, a heavy perfume of roses and a smell that Effie could never put her finger on, but strangely reminded her of death.

She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but the tension in the room seemed to intensify, as Seneca pushed Charity off his lap, a few others stopped talking and Cinna seemed to blend into the background.

She turned and smiled at the man that had just walked in. He seemed perfectly dry, not a hair out of place. He was a man who commanded attention as he walked into a room.

"Coriolanus Snow, how wonderful you are to join us" she said brightly. Snow barely glanced at her as he made his way further into the room, his gaze sweeping over everything but lingering on nothing.

Seneca stood up and strode to meet him half way across the room.

"Coriolanus" he said, his hand outstretched to shake his hand "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it. Could I get you a drink?"

"It was a late day at the office" Snow replied, barely shaking Seneca's hand "a few loose strings needed to be tied up. Sadly, we can't all dilly dally around in a newspaper office, printing the misfortunes of others, can we?" he asked, looking around at the other gentlemen in the room, clearly expecting a reaction. His comment elicited a nervous titter from the others, causing Seneca to flush. He recovered quickly though and busied himself by fixing Snow a drink.

"Plutarch" Snow said, nodding at an overweight man in the corner "I wasn't expecting to see you here this evening."

"My plans were unexpectedly cancelled" the man replied, raising his glass at Snow. "Ms Donner never showed up for our meeting. I expect she was caught up somewhere."

"I dare say you're right." Snow said, accepting a glass from Seneca. "I'm sure you'll be hearing from her in the morning. Caeser, how are you this evening? I hear the club is going well."

A man in a bright jacket was in the process of lighting a cigar when Snow spoke to him. He took a long draw before replying.

"Business has never been better." He said, "I'm looking for more acts though…...Mrs Crane, I don't suppose we can convince you to come back to the stage?" he asked with a laugh. Caeser Flickerman owned one of the most successful clubs in the city and was a multimillionaire as a result. Effie had performed there numerous times at her height of her career. She had a soft spot for Caeser, he was as devious as they came but he was a true showman. He could put anyone at ease and had a real talent for knowing exactly what the audience wanted. In many ways it made him even more dangerous than anyone else in the room.

"Mrs Crane was never on the stage Caeser" she replied pleasantly "but if you want Effie Trinket to return to the stage, well you'll have to make me an offer."

"I'm afraid my wife just likes leading you on Caeser" Seneca said, standing next her, his hand resting on her back "Effie will not be returning to the stage. She's devoted to being a wonderful wife, and hopefully in time a brilliant mother."

"A true loss to my audiences." Caesar said, a naughty smile crossing his face. "You're a very lucky man Seneca."

"Mrs Crane" Snow said, finally acknowledging her "You're looking as lovely as ever."

Effie resisted the urge to shudder as his cool lips touched the back of her hand.

"Thank you." She said graciously "I'm sorry to hear that Mrs Snow is still feeling under the weather."

"I'm planning to send her to a doctor in London. I fear that the ones here are not making a bit of difference. Perhaps the change in scenery will do her some good." Snow answered. He didn't wait for Effie to reply, but rather found himself a seat, and lit his own cigar. His wife and he were very rarely seen together. The story was that she suffered from terrible migraines, but Effie had rumours more than once that she had threatened to divorce him. It was one of the many things that would never be printed at Seneca's express orders.

"Well, I think we could do with some music, don't you?" Cinna said, reappearing at her shoulder "and while Effie Trinket, or Mrs Crane will not be returning to the stage any time soon, perhaps she would consent to give us a private performance this evening, hmm?"

Within minutes, the room and transformed from a smoky lounge into a smooth jazz club. Effie refused to sing, but she and Cinna danced together, leaving Seneca to chat up all his friends. By the time the evening came to an end, it was early morning, and Effie was more than a little drunk.

Seneca carried her up the stairs and laid her on the bed, slipping off her shoes before covering her with a blanket.

"You're in a good mood" Effie murmured sleepily

"Shush and sleep." Seneca replied quietly "I think things are finally about to change. Don't come into the office tomorrow. You deserve a day off."

Effie drifted off, with one thought swirling around in her mind. Why were things suddenly about to change?

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 _ **Please review if you can spare a moment.**_


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